


The unexpected guest

by Lola_Rose_Robins



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Bad Writing, Dimension Travel, Gen, Original Character(s), no plot yet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:34:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26069560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lola_Rose_Robins/pseuds/Lola_Rose_Robins
Summary: Aziraphale is home alone when an unknown entity shows up in the bookshop. Who are they and what do they want?
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 2





	1. First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really have a plot yet, but I'll get there. This is just something that popped into my head and now refuses to let go.

The door to the old bookshop opened. The sound of the bell broke the silence, alerting the angel that a new customer had just arrived.

Aziraphale carefully closed the book he had been reading and placed it on the desk next to him. He got up with a small sigh.

“I’m terribly sorry, dear, but we are quite definitely closing.” He said as he entered the shop from the back. He couldn’t yet see the customer, but he could hear their breathing. It sounded a bit off.

“Are you the principality Aziraphale?” The voice sounded young and it sounded like whoever it belonged to was in great pain.

Aziraphale rounded the last corner, causing him to finally be able to see who it was that had disturbed the silence.

A teenager stood in the clearing in the centre of his shop. They looked like they had just been to Hell and had decided that the best mode of transportation would be to crawl around or roll on the floor, and had then gone on a three-day trip. To be fair, they might as well have done just that, how would Aziraphale know. Their clothes were torn and they were covered in blood and dirt. They didn’t seem the type to be an axe murderer, so the blood must be their own. Their broken sunglasses stood crooked on their nose, just barely covering their eyes.

This was a shocking sight to behold, and it was certainly not helped by the fact that the kid seemed to know exactly who he was, while he had no idea who they were.

Aziraphale miracles the door locked, making sure the ‘closed’ sign was up. As soon as he had done this, six feathered, ash-grey wings flew out from behind the teenager and they sank to the floor. Their sunglasses bounced on the floor, ending up right before Aziraphale’s feet.

Unsure what to do now, Aziraphale rushed over to the teenager, who was now lying on the floor, curled into a ball with their broken wings sticking out in all directions. Oh, he wished Crowley was here right now, he probably wouldn’t know what to do either, but at least he would have some company to worry with together.

He picked the kid up, making sure not to touch their wings, and carried her into the back room, where he miracle the couch just a little bit bigger, before laying them down on it.

He immediately went to work, cleaning and healing the wounds, and as he did so he tried to scan them to figure out who or what he was dealing with here. Six wings were not something you saw everyday, especially not in that colour. He couldn’t find much about the maybe-angel that was laying broken and unconscious on his couch, but they did feel vaguely familiar, like they had met before, but he couldn’t quite figure out when or where.

When he felt satisfied with his work, he placed a soft blanket over the teenager and sat down with his book across the room, making sure to put some holding sigils underneath the couch (since he still didn't know what they were and what they wanted), for now that would be enough.


	2. Who's that?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley is finally home, and their 'guest' could wake up any second now. Who are they?

Aziraphale had been reading for over 2 hours, occasionally going over to check if his ‘guest’ was still alive, when he finally heard the sound of the Bentley pulling up to the shop. He rushed out of the room, making it to the front door just as Crowley entered.

“Hey, angel, how’s…what’s wrong, did something happen?” The last part was whispered, as the angel had signalled him to be quiet.

“I’m fine, it’s just…follow me.” Aziraphale whispered back before turning around and leading him to the back room.

The two of them sat on Aziraphale’s armchair as they looked over at the unconscious pile of limbs, bandages and feathers on the couch.

“So who’s this?” Crowley finally asked.

“I don’t know dear, they just showed up like that. They feel familiar though, like we’ve met before. I don’t know why, but I feel I can trust them.”

“Yeah, same here. Strange.”

“Very.”

They didn’t notice their guest moving slightly as the two of them quietly discussed everyone they had ever met that could’ve secretly been an immortal.

A loud thud and a groan suddenly pulled them out of their little bubble and they both looked over at a slightly confused kid, who was now half sitting, half laying on the floor after just having rolled off the couch. Their hair and feathers stuck out at weird angles and their wide eyes scanned the room. Bright, purple eyes.

A the kid noticed the two beings staring at them, they tilted their head slightly sideways, in the way puppies often do.

The kid seemed harmless enough, especially since they were still incapacitated, so the angel and the demon slowly got up from their seat. Aziraphale was still a bit unsure of how to proceed, so her miracled a cup of hot cocoa into his hand and handed it over. The kid seemed slightly surprised, but happily accepted the cup. Aziraphale (very cautiously) sat down on the couch next to them, as Crowley crouched on the coffee table.

“So, and who might you be?” Crowley asked, trying to make eye-contact with the kid, who did not seem to appreciate this and started fidgeting with some of their feathers. Aziraphale motioned to Crowley that he would try the talking, and repeated the question.

The kid looked over at him slightly, but never making eye contact, and replied:

“I go by a lot of different names, but I think you might remember me as Roag. I’m pretty sure that’s the name I used when I was here…”

Aziraphale suddenly sounded very excited, “Oh I remember you! But the last time I saw you, you were just a fledgling that had just crawled out of Hell. I still don’t know how you got to living in Heaven…”

“So that’s where you went!” Crowley interjected, “y’know, I actually went looking for you after you disappeared.”

“Sorry, I just didn’t really like Hell all that much.” The kid answered with a cheesy grin.

Well, at least now they knew why the kid felt so familiar to the both of them. The kid had lived in both Hell and Heaven, somehow in that exact order, something that should be impossible. Angels and demons could go up and down the stairs to visit the other place of course, but no angel in their right mind would actually live downstairs, and no demon would dare do the opposite.

“So where have you been?”

Roag had now found a piece of rope and was twirling this around their fingers. “Oh, I’ve been travelling…”

“But surely, we would have come across one another if we were all on the same planet for 6000 years.”

“…between dimensions.” Roag looked up now, briefly making eye contact with Aziraphale to convey their seriousness, before looking back down and continuing to fidget with their length of rope. “It was fun.”

“But what happened to you, you don’t just show up broken like that out of the blue. What caused it?” Crowley began to become impatient, tapping his feet on the floor.

Roag was quiet for a while, seemingly too focussed on their hands to have heard the question, but after a few moments of silence, they spoke up. “The world I was in just went through their apocalypse. I tried to stop it, but I failed. It was a bit more extreme than yours. At least I managed to get some of the people out…But I don’t know where they ended up, since they’re not here with us.”

**Author's Note:**

> I might have made one of my favourite OCs slightly autistic... It fits the character and I do enjoy my representation.


End file.
